A Train Ride

There is something mesmerizing about traveling through the city in the early hours of the morning. People are either quiet and absorbing their surroundings, or are sprawled on benches catching up on the last dregs of long lost sleep. Outside the train, through the dirty glass window, you can catch sight of the early morning tempos and bikes trying to get to places before the city traffic stretches its arms and yawns to greet the sunrise. Though it's chilly outside, you don't really know what kind of day lies ahead, gray or sunny? Every once in a while a neon board shines through the grimy window, leaving you wondering how much longer before somebody switches it off. It suddenly strikes you that you never took into account the fact that it would still be dark once you reach your destination. The subway might just be deserted at this time. But then again, you feel the bulge of the pepper spray against your leg and take comfort in it. I have loved Chennai like a home. Though I've spent the last three years living on the highway on the outskirts, it never fails to amaze me how much safer I feel here than I ever did back home. I could never imagine taking a metro this early by myself. It's as if the women don't exist after dark and before daylight. The select few who do, either have their own cars or are chaperoned around by their men. Fear is a way of life.
But that's not what I set out to write about. I am awaiting the sunrise. When the birds start screaming in the sky. I am waiting for a new day to dawn. Today, I am headed on a journey which will probably bring to end another journey that I had undertaken a long time ago. The winds of change blows straight, into the face of time..
Someday, I will write an ode to this city, but not today. Today, I will sit back and enjoy the ride home. I will be back, at least one more time, if not more.

A Working Title - Part III

Shalini was sitting in the bus, watching the world move. There was a chill in the air. She had her neck stuck out the window to allow the full force of the wind to hit her face. This moment, she decided, was why she was alive. To live in that moment, to cherish it, and to have all such moments strung together on a rope which would lead her across the river. It was all about experiences, after all. Nobody remembers the late nights they were stuck at work preparing for a meeting that never happened, but nobody forgets that gorgeous sunset they happened to witness on the way back from work, or the night they spent making merry with friends. She thought back to the last three days. Zuber and Arjun had made plans to meet again for the weekend, without hesitation, she had agreed and booked her tickets. In her excitement, she made the wrong bookings. Twice. The trip was almost called off until she had finally managed to get her head straight and book good tickets for herself. She smiled thinking about all the teasing that was headed her way for the next many years.
She had collected so many moments in those three days, pushing herself to do things she would never have imagined doing before. It still horrified her that she had karaoked in front of a crowd of unknowns. Arjun had had to step in to save her the embarrassment, she had been that bad. She had felt a rush of affection for him at that moment, knowing how lucky she was to have friends like them in her life. No matter how drunk the three of them were, she doubted any one would forget the cheesiness that night brought with it. The three of them had spent most of the weekend exploring movies on the telly in Zuber's room. They had stepped out to eat at exotic places they wouldn't have dreamt of stepping into under normal circumstances. They had spent an entire afternoon idling away at an amusement park, grabbing a few drinks at the end of the day. The laid back vacation was life's way of telling her to take it easy, to allow each moment to sink in, to revel in them. She knew life was long and the only way to live it, was to sleep happy at the end of each day. With that thought in her head, she stepped out of the bus which had come to a standstill, and walked to her office for the last time ever. It was time to move on to another experience.

Morning musings

Random thought, if I am standing still and a dog comes running and bumps into me head first, does it understand that it was his mistake and move on, or does it blame me and bite me?

In case you're wondering, that is it.

Naina

Wicked Games

My blog voice is getting a little annoying. Every time I am doing something which does not really involve much human interaction, this little voice in my head starts dictating my next post. For instance, today, I was out for a team lunch. I was sitting by myself, tuned out, paying very close attention to the music that was playing, and Ms. Blog pipes up.
"Hmm..Bryan Adams. I like this song. I may be dulled out of my senses right now, but at least the food and the music is good. Oh, Rihanna now. Sheesh, that was going so well up until now. Let's see, how would the post begin....All I wanted to do today was to lie back in bed, plug in my earphones and bore myself into studying. Its been one helluva weekend, what with Shilpa's Magic on Friday night which proved too strong for all of us and yesterday's crazy shopping excursion which saw us on our feet for about 8 hours. Next week is pretty packed too, Shilpa's Magic gets revisited at Karaoke night on Thursday! (I reckon she would not be too keen on mixing her Magic with mine this time round. She has learnt from experience). And then yes, a Mexican farewell to Mario on Friday! I have no idea  where that is happening, or what the plan is. But something tells me the other girls are going to be toast after Thursday which might lead to cancelation of THAT Magic. Ooo!! Wicked games! What a nice song this one. Maybe I should add about the music too. Wonder how long before the songs start repeating themselves" (about 1.5 hours it took)...and so on and so forth.
Notable songs that played during my zone out session include Adele's Someone like you, Enrique's Hero, Richard Marx's Right Here Waiting. Right Here Waiting is one song that doesn't get old. I've loved that song for as long as I can remember. It always brings back memories of a winter afternoon, the sun shining weakly in through the sheer curtains and me lying cuddled under a heavy blanket next to Nim, trying to catch that half hour of sleep before our various classes had to be attended to. Funny how that was the most amount of worrying we were expected to indulge in back then. I remember feeling so sorry for myself for being involved with so many things after school while the others just went home and did whatever. Kids. You never really realize how good you have it till it's too late. I think I am a very interesting person today because of all those classes Nim and I attended as kids. I would put a humble tongue smiley here, but please, writers don't use Smiley's to express their emotions. On a related note, if my phone had the option, I could have used the sarcasm mark here. Just so you didn't think me too conceited. *smiley face*

Time to give in to A Whole New World now. Tuning out!

Naina

Tipsy

left...right....up,,,,down....
just two down..have seen worse. It's catwalkin; babayyyy...

Aakanksha in the kitchen, making lemon water,
Niharika helping her stand.
I played La bamba. Which comes after catwalkin'
I've had worse,
Why is the Magic hitting me today?
Like Xanadu,
He didn't know what he was typing,
Take my lappie away,
I know what I am doing,
Need inspiration.
She is in the loo,
throwing up again.
Girl, it's messed up.
Lala, stop laughing.
I am still the Punjabi
I was born to be.
Wrong time of the day.
Or night.
Won't happen again.
Hang in there love.
Put my head on the pillow,
Take a nap.
Having lemon water now.
Ta ta, gnyte.

Happy Birthday Britney

Happy Birthday Britney!!
Hehehe, I am not a fan. I am watching Vh1 where they are celebrating Britney Spears' birthday, and I find it extremely funny that between the two of us, Shilpa and I actually know what song is playing from watching just two seconds of the video. Reminds me of my school days. It's as if I'm not a girl, and not yet a woman. She did ruin I love Rock 'n' Roll for me, it was so bad that it was Toxic. She didn't have the swag Joan Jetts did. I am looking for other ways of using her songs in the post, but I think that's going to kill it. We don't want you guys to go against the music. Oops! I did it again!!!
OK seriously, no more. I am not going to say something bugging like We don't want to be slaves 4 her work. That would be so lame.
Moving on, so hey! I got a hit from a tumblr blog with a title "F*** Homophobia.". I totally share your sentiment, but seriously, I am curious, which post did you link on the blog? I am not really sure how Tumblr works, so feel free to Hit me baby one more time. Kheekheekheee...that, I  just couldn''t resist.
I can't think of anything more to write, so,

Adios!

Thought for a day

"Because sometimes, our stupidity knows no bounds."

R.I.P good sense and general carefulness.
Sometimes, you have to fall to learn to look before you step off the curb.

Atonement: A Review

I had been stuck on this book for almost three months now without making much progress. There was always something else I had to do. Last week, I figured, other stuff can't be as important, so I went back into my cage and really started reading and finished the book yesterday. (The absence of an internet connection played an important role in facilitating 12 hours of reading time on a Saturday). I had heard people tell me how amazing the movie is, and while I believe them, I also believe a lot of poetry would have been lost in the making of the movie. After the first few chapters, once the life altering event has occurred, there isn't much suspense left in the novel. Ian McEwan kind of tells you without really telling you what the ending of the book is going to be. I felt the book to be more of a character study, about how different people remember an event that happened to them years earlier. Some hide, pretending nothing happened, others have to live with the consequences and cannot hide. It's almost like a study of human emotions, you can see how each character is thinking and reacting. It does leave you feeling a little hollow in the end. Had I not been a tough nut, I would probably have even cried. I am now planning to watch the movie, if only to see the characters come alive. (And Keira Knightley). I would definitely recommend the book to anyone who is looking for a serious read and is slightly out of sorts with life. It made me feel better about the general going-ons right now. At the risk of sounding cheesy, it heals. But of course, you have to shut the world out completely for that to happen, which might be a major contributing factor!
And the title, I love the title of the book. It's such a loaded word, Atonement. I wish I could think up such words while I write. I  am beginning to think I need to start reading through a dictionary now.

Onto other books now,
Adios,
Naina

Experience that changed how I think - Part II

I used to go for my internship to South Campus every day for two months during my summer break. Summer means 45° and hot winds. I would take the bus every morning, because my family lacked confidence in my driving skills. One day, I finally convinced them to let me drive down by myself. Dad, being the encouraging sorts, agreed. Feeling all grown up, I pulled on my shades and plugged in my music and drove off. Being a Saturday, I didn't get much traffic on the road. I got there in good time, only to  discover the parking was full. The parking guy would not let me in. I scanned the lot and found this tiny spot between a Honda City and one other car. I showed him the spot, and he let me through. Like a pro I maneuvered the car into that tight spot. Feeling rather proud of my achievement, I turned the engine off and gathered my stuff. I was about to step out, when it dawned on me, there wasn't enough room to get the door open. The gift of foresight... I did not have it.
I looked at the old couple sitting in the Honda and smiled, wondering what to do. Helplessly, I figured, I would have to back up and park elsewhere. I figured if i did that and found a different parking, nobody had to know what I had done. Sounded easy enough, till I tried. I scratched the entire left side of the Honda on my way out. Uh-oh. My first accident ever. The sweet old man who had smiled at me a few minutes back looked at me in shock.
Well, the rest is boring stuff. I apologized, called my dad, who apologized on my behalf and shared his contact.. Yada yada...it was all sorted out.
The point being, you have to plan in advance. Whether you're parking a car, or backing up one, you need to know exactly where you're heading and what your next move is going to be. You can't scratch somebody else's brand new Honda and expect them to be OK with it, and not every father is as tolerant or supportive as mine when it comes to pulling his daughters out of a tight spot. So that's your lesson for today, look for how you're going to get out of the car before you park it.

That last line kinda sounds deep...
Naina

Experience that changed how I think - Part I

So, I have to work on my applications which require a lot of introspection and retrospection. My sister tells me I have become a Twiteratti, whereby I cannot write anything meaningful (read essays for my applications), but a whole lot of "ooh-look-what-happened-to-me-today". So, as of today, I'll be working on a series of ideas that I rejected for my application essays. I hope I can change your life and affect it the way mine was. Yes Nim, I've had some meaningful experiences in life as well. And a conversation with my Physics Professor counts!!
So, the first one, to Mr. Pathak. (Varun, your not allowed to call me a nerd at this stage.)
Back to Mr. Pathak. My dear man, you may not have been able to pique my interest in nanotechnology, but you did make me think.
The following conversation took place about, say, 3-4 four years back. I am obviously not quoting it word for word..but the essence has not changed.

I had just finished reading another book on the Holocaust and was waiting for something in Pathak sir's room, when we started discussing the things that went down during the world war. I was expressing my horror at what Hitler had done, and how wrong it all was, when sir stopped me, and asked, how do you know all that stuff happened?
I've read about it, you know about it, I know about it, the world knows about it... What is there to not know?
He looked at me and said, do you think the Allieds never did anything that bad? Do you think it was one sided?
"We would have heard about it, if something that big went down, I'm sure we would have known."
And then, he said (this I quote word for word), "History is written by winners".
Had Germany won, do you think the kids in school would have been taught about the gas chambers? You would have seen another side of the war. You would have heard of the atrocities American soldiers inflicted, you wouldn't even have heard of concentration camps. What happened in the Iraq war? What happened to the POWs? Does the next generation get to read about it in history books?
I think my face was stinging with the realization of what he had just told me. I was stunned. Years later, when I read 1984, his words came back to haunt me.
What IS the truth? We, as a race, have become so gullible to everything we are told. If one person says something conspiratorial on Twitter or Facebook, ten people follow it. Soon, hundreds begin believing it. Nobody stops to reflect and question the origin of that piece of news. Everybody likes a conspiracy. We thrive on it, we embrace it. It makes bulbs in our head glow. It makes us angry. We like being angry. We are moronic in that sense..conflict seeking, temperamental humans.
Anyway, the take away for me from this "experience" was to always always always question what you are told. Don't believe your mum when she tells you that you can't stay out late at night, or your sister when she tells you that she is smarter that you are. Question it. Always.

Off-topic, I was listening to Bon Jovi's Always on repeat today..reminded me of Snape. The lyrics kind of fit. Isn't that weird?

Another one will be up soon,
As ALWAYS, would like to hear from you lot! Leave a comment or at least mark a box at the bottom. (I lied, it hurts when somebody marks a post "Lame". But dont worry, go ahead and mark it if you find the post lame)

Adios.
Naina "enlightened" Taneja

Sunday Morning

It's 6.30 in the morning, the sun is up, there is a chill in the air. Decent time to be alive in. Unless of course, you had to drag your grouchy self out of bed at 4.30 in the morning (after lying awake for over an hour), get dressed and enter a dirty kitchen to grab a decent breakfast of fried egg which ends up being more scrambled than fried and reach over an hour early for an exam that starts after three hours. And when you enter the arena, you look around hoping to find a cosy nook where you can put your head down and catch up on the sleep, and realize even a tiny space to put your butt on would suffice at this stage. All of this for an exam I haven't studied for and expect no miracles from. Sometimes I wish I had my own Tyler Durden who would make me do stupid things so I  didn't do other stupid things. To top it all off, I had the brilliant idea of disabling my 3G connection yesterday, because it hardly ever works anyway, only to realize, it had been working alright all this while. Humans, never satisfied. So we end up even more dissatisfied. Now I am here, without internet, without company, and with no hope in sight of getting any sleep before I am supposed to begin applying my soggy brains to work. But you guys, its a nice Sunday morning, so sleep in, snuggle up next to your bunnies or husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, kids, who or what ever. It is still only 6.35 after all.

Lol, network error...

Sunday Morning

It's 6.30 in the morning, the sun is up, there is a chill in the air. Decent time to be alive in. Unless of course, you had to drag your grouchy self out of bed at 4.30 in the morning (after lying awake for over an hour), get dressed and enter a dirty kitchen to grab a decent breakfast of fried egg which ends up being more scrambled than fried and reach over an hour early for an exam that starts after three hours. And when you enter the arena, you look around hoping to find a cosy nook where you can put your head down and catch up on the sleep, and realize even a tiny space to put your butt on would suffice at this stage. All of this for an exam I haven't studied for and expect no miracles from. Sometimes I wish I had my own Tyler Durden who would make me do stupid things so I  didn't do other stupid things. To top it all off, I had the brilliant idea of disabling my 3G connection yesterday, because it hardly ever works anyway, only to realize, it had been working alright all this while. Humans, never satisfied. So we end up even more dissatisfied. Now I am here, without internet, without company, and with no hope in sight of getting any sleep before I am supposed to begin applying my soggy brains to work. But you guys, its a nice Sunday morning, so sleep in, snuggle up next to your bunnies or husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, kids, who or what ever. It is still only 6.35 after all.

Lol, network error...

My Kiss of Love

Another report of "moral policing" in my city. A few protectors of the Indian culture took it upon themselves to beat up a bunch of students who decided they wanted to kiss in public. I get it, you have man strength. You would like to let the world know that. How dare people show affection for each other in public? I mean, I don't care if a man rapes a woman in public, or stares at her obscenely, or molests her. As long as there is affection involved and the act is consensual, it is against the Indian culture.
Rewind. Are you trying to tell me, my culture allows for sexual abuse, but not for a little PDA? Dear Protectors of the Indian Culture (Henceforth, referred to as the PIC), tell me, when was the last time you were this quick to react to help a lady in distress in a public space? I get groped in the dark, you stand by on your bike, watching on, wondering why I am trying to grab a man by his collar and calling him names. But, the moment I as much as hold my boyfriend's hand in a public place, you swoon down on me, from who knows where, and ask me, Is this your drawing room? Yes, I am aware this is  a public space, I am also aware of what is illegal in public. I am not indulging in obscenity, PIC, I am only displaying my affection for another human being. Who defines your limits? OK to beat up people in the name of "Culture", not OK to be beaten up by people for being buffoons.
I remember reading a report in the papers a few months back, that a city had decided to install cameras in a park where couples frequented and sat by themselves in corners "indulging" in PDA. Did anybody bother to identify public spots where eve-teasing or molestation are rampant and suggest installation of cameras there? Is it just me or does everybody here have their priorities messed up? You are actually sending out signals, that if it is forced, we will accept it and let it go with comments such as "boys will be boys", but the moment it is consensual, it will hurt our sensitivities and we will step out and beat you up. Boo your logic. My Indian culture is not stagnant. It is evolving. Which is why Sati is illegal today, which is why dowry is illegal today. By your logic, we should de-evolve by a 100 years and go back to being an underdeveloped, enslaved society. Because that was once a part of our culture. Every time I hear somebody use the word "culture" to defend some inane action of theirs, it makes me mad. Drop the act. You don't care. You do the same stuff behind closed doors, everybody else just decided to stop being shy and take it out into the open. Again, I understand the difference between full fledged obscenity and a little display of affection. So, till you can tell the women of this country they can walk freely at night or alone through a deserted patch on the road, stop telling them to not kiss in public, you don't have the right to.

A very indignant Indian Girl.

Anger Management 101

I was attempting to write something funny here, but the rhyming forced a wrong turn. I hate that every second line rhymes, but I couldn't really do anything about it. But I think I will work on a humorous piece sometime later. Meanwhile, try ignoring the rhyming scheme.

Punch a pillow,
Kick a chair.
Smash a glass,
Pull out your hair.
Close your eyes,
But don't despair.

Scream and shout,
And whine and glare.
Now simmer down,
The world is here.
Breathe in, my love,
It's time to repair.
For the world can't know,
Of the turmoil in there.
The chemicals will leave,
The dark disappear.
So close your eyes,
And dont despair.
Because my love,
The world is there.

Naina

Niches

After a long time, I used paper and pen to write. It's been raining heavily for the last one week here, this vision triggered something, somewhere. Happy Diwali, everyone.

***

Two wires,

Lying in the rain

Touched each other,

Sent sparks sprayin'.

In the dark,

There was light.

Something dangerous,

Yet, something bright.

I look back,

To that moment,

When two wires,

Lying in the rain

Touched each other,

And sent sparks sprayin'.

Naina

Out of the Blue

Another one from the days gone by. I think I was on an overload of cheese when I wrote this.

Reminder: I was only a child when this was written, don't be too harsh on me!

And Varun, this one does not rhyme. Sorry. 

Out Of The Blue

Today, as I was walking down the road,

I suddenly saw a someone

Who looked just like you.

And before I knew it, my heart ached

To see you, to meet you again.

I thought of all the times when I needed you

And how I always found you there.

The times when I needed a shoulder to cry upon

And how you always lent me yours.

The times when I wanted someone to be happy with

You were always there, somehow.

The day we parted ways, with tears streaming down our cheeks,

We promised to keep in touch, and forever be friends.

But somehow, we lost each other,

And today, dear friend, I miss you

And wish you were here to tell me

That you miss me too.

And suddenly, I see you, walking towards me,

With a smile on your face which says,

“Thinking about me?”

And I grin and think you did it again.

Once again, when I needed you

You came to me, somewhere out of the blue.

Later, in the evening, as I walked back home,

I asked my God what I had done,

To have gotten a friend like you.

And I heard a voice within me say

“ Your friend just asked the same about you.”

A Boy Named Billy Jones

I just found a bucket load of my old writing! This one was written in 2003 for some contest which wanted to encourage physical activity among teenagers. There is loads of other stuff lying about which needs to be worked on. Will post it if I deem it appropriate any time in the future.

A Boy Named Billy Jones

Here was a boy named Billy Jones

Who never ever moved his bones

And because he never moved

This is what happened to him-

One fine morning he found that he

Was completely paralyzed, physically.

Too fat to move, too fat to budge

He started to panic, he was really het up

He sat on his bed like a huge block

And blubbered on the phone-“Please help me doc.”

The doctor came, looking quite grim

“Let’s face it son, you’re not very trim.

You have more fat than you can bear

And soon you’ll have no clothes to wear.

Your body’s in a terrible state

Your heart will collapse from all that weight

Now you’ll feel about eighty-eight

But soon you’ll be Billy Jones- The Late”

There was a boy, name of Billy

Who thought the doctor’s advice was silly

And reached out for another cream roll

And we’re here today to pray for his departed soul.

Begin Again (The Movie): My Two Paise

I just finished watching this weird and cute little movie, which Varun recommended, about a month after I recommended it to him by making him watch its trailer. It is one of those new age movies which is completely devoid of any clichés, and which leaves you feeling a little good, because you just saw something that you have not seen about a million times before. And don't be fooled by the trailer, it is not a chick flick. The title in itself is so poetic and meaningful. It made no sense to me the first time I heard of it, but after the first ten minutes into the movie, the whole thing suddenly began making sense. You begin, all over again. Once you have failed at everything, falling down to the bottom of the pit, the only thing left for you to do is to start fresh. I have long believed, that it is mostly those people who have failed miserably in everything they do, who have the courage to do what nobody else would. A man with a secure job and a fat pay check will not do the unthinkable and imaginative. And that, is precisely what the movie was all about.
Keira Knightley looks charming in the movie as the poor little miserable failure, Mark Ruffalo has put on a whole lot of years since 13 Going On 30. I do wish the man would put a little more effort in looking less messy, we are, after all, no longer in the 90s. That being said, I still really like him. And Adam Levine....Whoa! I think he would be my first musical crush, and no, the Late Mr. Presley at age of 16 does not count. What an amazing man, though I was quite  disappointed by the overall soundtrack. I felt like something was missing there. I do believe the makers of the movie were trying to make a point about record labels and what nots. I really don't know. But I bet Nine Inch Nails would be proud.
There was a lot of infidelity flying around in the movie, which makes you believe it is no longer possible to be in a happy relationship for too long without risking a third party these days. The views on infidelity represented in the movie are kind of contradictory to the views presented in a book I am currently reading, and I was beginning to wonder which one would be closer to reality. While in the movie, you generally get the impression that no matter how long you have been in a relationship, the moment you discover that you had been momentarily replaced, you walk out; in the book, the lady whose husband cheated on her decides to stay on and work things out. (Not a spoiler, I have barely started reading the book). Sharing a direct quote from the book here,

"...Kiki had begun to release the memory of Howard's mistake...she had weighed one stupid night against a lifetime of love and felt the difference in her heart. If you'd told Kiki a year ago, your husband will screw somebody else, you will forgive him, you will stay, she wouldn't have believed it. You can't say how these things feel, or how you will respond, until they happen to you.."

For some reason, the words made more sense than the characters' reactions in the movie.
I quite liked how the movie ended. It was simple and sweet. It makes a decent Saturday-night-lazing-in-bed watch. So if your late night class also got cancelled and you have time to spare, watch the movie. Meanwhile, go watch Adam Levine being wonderful with Jimmy Fallon here. (His Frank Sinatra!!)

Adios,
Naina

A Working Title - Part II

For Part I, click here.

A week had passed since Shalini had walked out of the office and driven off. After hours of mindless wandering, she had finally gone home. She had called one of her oldest friends from college and poured her heart out. The next day, there were return tickets in her inbox for a holiday at a beach side town, with only two words of explanation, "Let's meet." She had not needed a second invitation. It was time to make the leap. She had two days to plan. She did not tell her family about the trip, she was sure there would be objections. "It is unsafe", or "where and how will you stay?" or, "how can you travel without any female companions, what will the world say?". She did not think she could handle all of that and still make it to the vacation feeling upbeat. So she took the easy way out, and just forgot to mention the plan to her family. And here she was today, with two of her closest friends, feeling the most peaceful she had felt in years. It had finally stopped raining. They were at the beach, absorbing the weak sun and enjoying each others' companies without uttering a single word, each content in the knowledge that they did not need to fill the space with needless banter. The waves were making that blessed sound that you can only hear if you're near a shore. The breeze was gentle, ruffling through her uncombed hair, tangling it up even more than was normal. A gang of boys had arrived to play a game of cricket, they had been setting up the pitch for the past ten minutes.  Zuber had just been invited to join the game. As he got up to join in, Shalini smiled and thought how good life was, and how, at that moment, all time had ceased. The three of them had spent the last four days doing nothing, just driving around and taking in the new city, trying not to get drenched by that ghastly rain that refused to give them a break. At the back of her mind though, she knew the moment she stepped out of there, the clock would restart, with a vengeance. Body and soul would once again separate, the brain and heart would be in a dilemma. But at that moment, she was one. At peace with the Earth, the wind, the water and the sky.

She lay her head on the sand and closed her eyes. With a smile on her face and the ocean in her ears she thought, right now, this is eternity.

END OF PART II

Life

The mundane,
The melancholy.
The twitch,
The dream.
The hopes,
And wishes.
Down the beaten path,
And then
The routine.

Epiphany

While brushing my teeth today morning, the meaning of 50 Shades of Grey suddenly hit me smack in the face. I suppose what E. L. James was trying to say is that in life there is no black and white, there are just so many shades of gray. I am assuming it refers to the shaded (shady?) preferences of the characters. And I thought, wow, that's deep. I just wish the term was associated with something less pornographic in nature, so it could have been used in daily parlance without eliciting raised eyebrows and giggles from the audience.
And then it was time to rinse my mouth and wash.

Until next time,

Naina

A Working Title

There are days you look forward to, and then there are days. Lately, there had been more of the latter. Every day was the same. Shalini would wake up, get dressed, and go to work. There, she would sit all day, staring out the window, waiting for something to happen. If it were a good day, the girl from the next cubicle would stop by for a chat. If not, well, there was always something happening outside the window. Once in a while, her boss would summon her, and hand her some mundane task to keep her occupied. At times, it involved doing an inventory check, which was dull and took up all day in a dark basement, at other times, it involved interacting with some of the other juniors in the team, which took up just a few hours. The past few weeks, she hasn't been handed any work at all. She sighed. The street was deserted outside today. She wondered if the boss had forgotten she was still there. And then she wondered if there was anyone who remembered she was there. At that thought, she slumped into her chair. Was it supposed to be like this? In her quest to earn a living, was she supposed to forget living? She looked around her, and realized there wasn't a single person in the room that she cared about. Nobody whose presence had made an ounce of difference in her life. Nobody who she looked forward to seeing every day. Did she really want to spend all her life among strangers, pretending to be alive?
It occurred to her how truly unhappy she really was. It was close to evening, and she hasn't spoken all day. There had been no one to speak with. Oh, wait, she had spoken with her mother on the phone. The thought comforted her a bit. She wished she could crawl into her mother's lap and weep right now. She took a deep breath and calmed herself down. She checked the time, gathered her things and walked up to the boss. He was leaning over a paper list, marking things off with his pen.
"Arjun?"
He looked up at her with a look of mild surprise.
"Umm..can I take the rest of the day off? I don't feel too good."
A look of relief passed across his face. "Sure, if you're not feeling too good by tomorrow, don't worry about coming in. Things are anyway quite slow here. I am sure one of the others can fill in for you."
For some reason, the last words made her feel worse than what she had been feeling earlier. There was probably nothing worse in life than being made to realize how completely and wholly replaceable you are in other people's lives. She quietly nodded her head as Arjun went back to his list and walked out of there.
The moment she stepped out, a gust of hot wind hit her in the face. It was sweltering outside. No wonder the streets were empty. She took another deep breath, and started walking away from the building. One step at a time. After she had covered sufficient distance, a kind of dread came over her. What next? Go home and do what? There wasn't much to do. She couldn't bear the thought of lying in bed staring at the ceiling. It was then that the first tears started rolling down her cheeks. She felt miserable. She wished she could run away from it all, and start fresh. Maybe, take the path less traveled. She wished she had taken the time to think about her next step before jumping into this job, so melancholy, and so far from everyone. She had reached her car, she got in and closed the door. It was a second hand hatchback, something her father had got for her when she moved out of the house. It was the only saving grace for her in the city. It allowed her the kind of mobility and freedom she needed right then. She drove out of the parking lot, into the blue nowhere. She had no idea where she was headed, she just knew she wasn't going home yet.

END OF PART I

Part II

The Wait

I looked at my watch. It was 4.30. Nikhil had said he would reach at 5. Stupid flight, why did it have to reach early? I couldn't wait to meet him again. It had been eight months since we last saw each other. The distance had taken every ounce of our good will to keep things going smoothly. He was always busy. Sometimes, it would be early  morning by the time he got to sleep. I smiled thinking about the next four days. We had all the time in the world.

I looked around for a place to sit and wait. I spotted a small café right outside the gates of the airport. I heaved my bag onto my shoulder and stepped out into the evening. Though the sun was still high in the sky, a cool breeze was making my skin tingle. I smiled with delight. I bent down and rolled up my jeans to my knees. What were a pair of skinny legs around shirtless men and bikini clad women. I was free to walk around in skimpy clothes here. I was free. I walked into the café and found myself a seat by the window. A little woman came and handed me a menu. I ordered a caramel frappé with two helpings of whipped crème. She smiled and asked if I would like a biscotti with it. I shook my head and smiled back at her. This much sugar would be enough to keep me up all night. While I waited for my coffee to arrive, I texted Nikhil to let him know where to find me. After staring at the screen for ten seconds, I switched the screen off and sat back. A big man was sitting across the room from me, engrossed in a book. I could not see what he was reading from where I sat, but I suddenly wished I had brought something of my own to read. I resigned myself to nothingness, and let my mind wander. I thought about the past few months. Things had been really tensed between Nikhil and me. He would be tired from all the work, and I would be crabby because we hardly got to talk.  When we did get the time, I would be all cool and aloof, because it made me mad that we hardly spoke. Sometimes, I really don't understand how the female mind works. I mean, I know he is busy, I know he isn't doing it deliberately, and I know I shouldn't be mad at him for it. Yet, there I was, being a jerk. It reminded me of the time when we were kids, before we got involved. The time when we were "just friends". It was an unspoken rule, that we would start texting each other the moment we got home from college. And if ever there was a day when he was busy, and was unable to text, or respond...well, I had no right to be mad at him, but I could express myself in other, less flattering ways. I would go all Brit on him, and pretend like I was too cool to care. It amazed me how, even after all these years, I was still capable of getting angry over something so ridiculous.

The lady brought me my coffee, the big man got up and left, I checked my phone.

Nikhil: See you in a bit!

I couldn't help but smile. Hurry! I replied. I couldn't contain my excitement.
I picked up my frappé, licked a part of the whipped crème off. Bliss! If Nikhil were here, he would have grabbed up the glass and licked up all the whipped crème, holding me off of him with one arm. I would have been left with just the coffee and a broken heart. I figured if I was fast enough, I could get to the bottom of the glass before he arrived. I took a few more sips and put my glass down, wishing time would move faster. I looked around listlessly, humming a random tune. The guy behind the counter was leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed across his chest, his left foot vibrating to the tune of boredom. I like that, tune of boredom. I suddenly realised my own left foot was shaking. But mine was shaking to the tune of excitement. Ta da da, ta- ta ta da. Dee daa. Ta dee da. I caught myself in the middle of shaking my head to the made up tune. This won't do. I was, after all, sitting in a public place. I looked down at my watch. Gah! He was late. Again. The idiot. I picked up my coffee again, and finished it all up in one big gulp. I picked up the phone and sent a whiny "Where aaaare youuuuuu" to Nikhil. I had just pressed sent, when I spotted him from my window. Jogging across the parking lot, looking for a small café outside the airport. Tingles. He found it! He looked into the café, saw me standing at the window, and his face lit up to reflect my expression. As he strode into the café, I came around the table, calm and composed, but with a big buffoon like grin on my face. He rushed into me, and caught me in his arms. I nuzzled my face in his chest, taking in all the warmth of his body, feeling his heart thumping against my chin. I felt him loosen his grip on me, grab the coffee glass from behind me, and finish off the last dollop of whipped crème that was left in my glass.
I smiled, I was home.

On Knowing

Oh Fathers up above,
What is it that you know
That I can't still learn?
My morning has just dawned,
And by the time the day is gone,
I will know more than you had ever done.

~Naina Taneja

The Coup de Grace

His eyes followed her around the room. She was flitting around like a butterfly, laughing and giggling all the way. Her hair was beginning to come undone. Her eyes looked tired. Her dress looked shabby. Yet, she laughed without a care in the world, oblivious to his attentions.To his eyes, she was perfect. He was overcome by a mad desire to confront her, to speak with her, to have her smile for him. He felt he could not leave the party till he had made that happen. He wanted to hold her attention, dazzle her and possess her. Yet, how could he? He had no premise to spark a conversation with her, she was unknown to him. He was just another person at a big party. He shook his head and ordered another glass of wine.
While sipping on his wine, he saw the man at the next table staring at her, smiling to himself. He felt a sudden surge of anger towards this stranger. His only wish at that moment was to tear the man's face away from her, and punch his teeth out. The stranger caught him staring, they smiled at each other and looked away. He was puzzled by this sudden rush of emotions. He knew nothing about the girl, he had never spoken with her, had never even laid eyes on her before. How could he, a grown man, fall so hard? Maybe he was drunk. Something at the back of his head told him he wasn't.
She had decided to put her unfinished glass away and try her luck with some food. She was not getting anywhere with that either. She had begun talking animatedly with a nerdy looking toad. The toad leaned in closer, trying to hear what she said. The butterfly and the toad, he thought bitterly. She suddenly looked up at him and caught his eye. With a gesture of her head that was almost non existent, she blushed a deep red and smiled at him. His heart went wild, his stomach churned. He didn't know if he could keep standing any longer. He managed to smile back at her weakly. She was still red when she looked away to focus her attentions back on the toad. She was no longer herself, she was painfully aware of him. He smiled to himself. He had all he needed now. He walked up to her, looked her in the eye, and asked the toad if he would mind excusing her for a while. She looked amused and scared, all at the same time. For some reason, that pleased him. He had her undivided attention now. He wasn't letting it go.
He held out his hand to her, she took it.
"Amer."
"Anya."
Awkward smiles. They were both acutely aware of the other, neither had spoken another word. To him it felt like he had known her all his life, she was not a stranger, but a lover, a friend, a companion. She was everything. None of it made any sense, so he stopped trying to see sense. All he wanted to do now was to hold her close, hear her talk and watch her laugh. But she looked like a squirrel, alert, ready to run at the first sign of trouble. He would not give her the chance. So he waited. She took a deep breath, then beckoned to him with the nod of her head towards the door. He followed her through it. It opened out into a small courtyard, dimly lit up by lanterns. She looked ravishing in the light. His heart was pounding. At that moment, he felt complete. Nothing but her presence could bring relief to his aching self. Everything in the world was just as it should be. He touched her arm and pulled her close. He could smell her breath, feel her hair brush against his face. Her skin was soft. If only he could have her by his side forever..
Suddenly, there was darkness all around. He could see the stars. She withdrew from the embrace. She looked up at him, and smiled, ever so sweetly. She was no longer blushing. He looked on her face in mild surprise. There was no longer any pain. He looked down at his chest, where her head had been, there was now a dark stain, growing in size. It came from within, the stain. He knew he should be angry, he should at least feel cheated, but he only felt love. She had released him from his misery, he was free. As he caught sight of the silver in her hand, he smiled and thought, at least she is still here with me.

***

A little about the origin of this piece: The title of the post came to me first, the story followed. I am not sure if I have been able to convey the darkness the way I meant to, but I do hope it leaves you a little unsettled. As per Soumyashree's reactions (she gave all the right ones), my words came through. Please leave some comments behind so I may know what is good, and what isn't. I have no idea how this piece is. I just fell in love with the title when I started off. If I remember correctly, I first read about a coup de grace back in school, there was this rather nice and saddening story about two boys caught in a war. One delivered mercy to the other, only to discover *major spoiler*. 

And FYI, if anybody is, in fact, following the blog, I am caught up between work and study at this stage, expect delays in posts!

Looking forward to some feedback, however bad (or good), here is me, wishing you a Good Night.

Naina

To Nim

And off we set at 5 in the am, for our holiday in the hills minus my sister. Her place has been taken up by an ice box full of some cumin flavored coke. ( not cocaine, before you run ahead of yourselves). I keep looking at it, waiting for it to grumpily push my leg and tell me to stick to my side of the car. But it doesn't seem to have the correct amount of enthusiasm. I expect its grumpier than she is when dragged out of bed early in the morning. It's too cool to care. (That was a joke right there in case you missed it).
Not much has changed since our first trip out to the hills that I can remember. The Carpenters are still playing from the car speakers, I am still sitting behind mum, and I know, by the time I am done with this post, I shall be sprawled across the back seat, fast asleep. The only difference being, Nim won't be here to fight with for the appropriate amount of leg space, nobody is going to laugh when I fall down inside the car, and nobody will be taking pictures of my mouth drooling and wide open while I sleep. The last bit made me realize how lucky I am that she doesn't frequent social sites. I think I would have had a very scarred childhood had she been on Facebook.
Time for a nap. For once, I shall be sleeping peacefully, without the mortal fear of being clicked at my worst. Bye Nim, we all hope you'd be home soon.

Kafka on the Shore: My Thoughts

Found this in my drafts. Missed publishing it for some reason.

I had written this review long back for a book discussion. Putting it up here now.

***

August 14, 2013

This is the only Haruki Murakami book that I have read so far. I don’t think I shall be picking up any of his other works any time soon. He uses a lot of “magic” in his books. Stuff that just doesn’t happen in real life. And he tells his tale in a manner where everything odd about life is acceptable. I wouldn’t call his work fantasy, but it’s not quite non-fantastical either.

The book begins with the story of a 15 year old runaway. And it ends with nothing solid. It’s not like an open ending, it’s just nothingness. You won’t find people arguing whether his spinning top fell in the end or not. If everything you just read happened in the boy’s head or if it happened at all. You just have to accept what has been told to you.

He just blends everything into one piece, like the random ramblings of an old man.

The first few chapters took me by surprise, I kept wondering how to see the book, is all the magic “Real” and acceptable? Or is it supposed to be odd even in the book. After a point in the book, you just stop wondering and accept it for what it is. When I was discussing the weirdness of the book with my sister, the only response I got was, “It’s Japanese literature, what else can you expect”. Like that explains everything.

I still don’t have any opinion on how I feel about the book, but I would definitely recommend reading it, if not for the story, for its completely different style of writing.

***

June 3, 2014

I read Metamorphosis some time back, my first Kafka ever! It suddenly made sense, the naming of the protagonist in Kafka on the Shore. I am now ready to pick up another Haruki Murakami book, and maybe, once I have decided I have read everything I could possibly want to, go back and re-read Kafka on the Shore. All the strangeness in the book.. maybe Gabo had more influence on the world than I had previously imagined. 

Freedom

How sad is the world, now that I have the freedom.

How unbearably dark is the night, and bright the day.

Today, I have a choice. Would I like to study further? Would I like to add a post grad degree to my undergrad one? Or would I like to, perhaps, continue the life of a robot, working in an IT company, trying to climb another rung of the ladder. 

How simple were the times, when I knew what was expected of me. Finish my school, get married to a man best suited to my social standing, cook and clean for him and his, have babies, and rule the roost. The writing on the wall was clear. You are inferior. Do as your man says, stay away from intelligent discussions, keep yourself covered, do not speak when not spoken to, and above all, submit.

But today, I hold my head up high. I tell the world, I am educated. I am better than the man. I will do as I please. I will aim higher than a man, rise above the pettiness of jealousy and comparison. I will not stop. But where is it that I want to go? Do I want money, or do I want a family? Do I want a good steady job, or do I want one where every minute is a challenge, every turn a surprise? I don't know. I am standing at crossroads, trying to figure out, which road to take. The task of living, all of a sudden, feels so...futile. Why isn't living fun any more? Isn't the whole point of being alive to have fun, to experience such wonders that leave me breathless?

It's a little ironic that I am speaking thus, considering I just finished reading 1984. The master of all slavery books. Orwell took the meaning of Freedom in a Society to all new heights. The hopelessness in his writing leaves you feeling a little unsettled. His words convey more than what they mean. 

We are living in a time, when people are breaking out against the norm, taking their own decisions, fighting for their rights, experimenting with their own lives. It's a time to celebrate and breathe in the fresh air, not to sit back and despair. There are still some places in the world where women are not allowed to vote, are not allowed to show their faces to the world. Where couples don't have the freedom to birth a second child. Where some things as basic as education could lead to an abduction. And here I am, in despair, because I cannot bring my GMAT score to cross a 600. 

Quoting from PS I Love You, if I ever get a 700, it will be the end of life, as we know it.

Naina

N.B:Not that it's relevant, but I struck the neck of a goose out of sheer anger in my dream last night. I screamed and threw objects around with a lot of force. And then I was weeping for the rest of my dream because of the atrocity of my actions. I am beginning to think I need medical attention.

Disclaimer: This post was published solely for my satisfaction. You are in no way obliged to like it.It makes no sense. By next week, it will cease to make sense to me.

Creak! - Edited

Made some minor changes to the original post, in the hope that it reads less like something a five year old would have thought up.

With a word she can get what she came for.

Creak!
Mira winced as the door creaked in the still of the night. Surely, it would have woken up someone? She stood listening to the slightest sound. None. She gently slid into Aliya's office and closed the door behind her. Slipping into Aliya's chair, she switched on her laptop and waited. When the log in screen appeared she promptly typed in Aliya's password and waited for the machine to boot.
Five seconds passed…waiting…ten…still waiting. She checked her watch. Twenty seconds...hurry up!
Thirty…ah! Finally. Aliya needed a new one. Maybe something with a better security as well…
Mira quickly pulled out a CD from inside its case. It gleamed in the glow of the laptop screen. She smiled as she loaded it. Thankfully, the laptop took lesser time to load the CD than it had taken for it to boot. Mira was already getting nauseous with anxiety.
This CD was by far, her favorite piece of work. Designed to work on every system, it had managed to decrypt a whole lot of complex passwords in the past. But she wasn't expecting any complications with this one...Aliya was too trusting. Besides, she didn't really know the importance of what she had on her hands.
OK, enough dawdling, she had better get down to work. She scanned Aliya's computer to find what she was looking for. What that was exactly, even she had no idea. But she knew it was there.
She scanned folder after folder having mundane names. Her legs were bobbing up and down with impatience. Just when she was deep into one of the directories, she found it. There.
That could be it, that had to be it. Double clicking the folder, her doubts were removed when she was prompted for a password. She set her software to work and watched as character after character was scanned in search for the correct one.
She checked her watch. 2 a.m. she thought of the morning when she would present the new program to her boss. How he would smile and say, I knew you would be the one to find the solution…

"Mira?"
Mira looked up, remembering where she was with a jolt. She was now staring into Aliya's face, tired and questioning.
"What are you doing here?" She asked as she strode up to her desk and joined Mira to face the screen. Mira saw her face redden, first with anger and then with sadness. Not trusting herself to say anything, Mira pulled her gaze away from her face and stared back at the screen. The last character was being hunted up.
MiraMia.
She thought back to the time her sister had trouble pronouncing her name. She felt a lump form in her throat as her dream burned away. She looked up at her sister just as she looked down at her. Something passed between them.
"Good night Mia".
She closed the door after she had left the room.

Typo is my middlenamf

I am about to type the following post without fixinf any typos. In short, without using the backspace.
But just so you know, I am being copletely honest when I say that, I will confess that i have used it twice in th first sentence.

I have been sitting in front og my oarnge coloured baby laptipo (laptop) for the past half an hour now, trying to figure out what to writee here. I asked my sister and Varun for help, and in an extremely sarcastic reply, I was told to write a post about how some peple have not gotten used to keyboards even after four years. Titled: Type is my middlenamf. (For the sake of clarity, that was: "Typo is my middlenamf")

The conversation that started it all

Here I am, trying to do just that. I am still trying to figure out how lame this post can be.
Not using the backspace also means that I shall not be able to fix any grammatical erros that I end up making. Please excuse. Also, apologies if I end up typing something which hurts your sensibility. For example whore, or sex. Thankfully, blogger des not have auto correct. I have been known to make some really dirty (completely unintentional, mind you) jokes because of auto correct. (I bet You are cursoing yourself right now, Varun Sharma. In yo face.)
I am tying to figure out, how many people are going to be getting affected by this post. I bet   most of the people reading this, are just itching to fix ALL of what I have typed out so far. Typo Nazis. Leave some room for mistakes! Loosen up, it's juist an incorrect spelling. Umagine what I have to go through, I have to think so much before I write anything down (not really). But seriously, loosen up. Don't be so uptight about my spelling, y typos, my missed letters, or even my additional letters. Think of this as an experiment. I am a great mibnd, trying to study human reactions to typos. I would really appreciate if I could get some comments on how much you hated readingthrough this poast. *evil laghter*
Since I have nothing of much substance to say anyway, I shall end the post here. I look forward to hearing from anyone out there, who has read my blog. Please tell me how bummed out you are by this typo ridden post.

Naina "Typo" Taneja

Creak

NOTE: If you're here for the first time, I suggest you read the edited version of this post first. It definitely reads better. You can find it here.

I wrote this piece long back, before Lisbeth Salander came onto the scene, mind you. It may appear a little juvenile. I have not made any changes to it. I would like to, here and there. But some other time.
Thanks for this, Lala!

With a word she can get what she came for.

Creak!
Mira winced as the door creaked in the still of the night. Surely, it would have woken up someone? She stood listening to the slightest sound. None. She gently slid into Aliya's office and closed the door behind her. Slipping into Aliya's chair, she switched on her laptop and waited. When the log in screen appeared she promptly typed in Aliya's password and waited for the machine to boot.
Five seconds passed…waiting…ten…still waiting. She checked her watch. Twenty seconds...hurry up!
Thirty…ah! Finally. Aliya needed a new one. Maybe something with a better security as well…
Mira quickly pulled out a CD from inside its case. It gleamed in the glow of the laptop screen. She smiled as she loaded it. Thankfully, the laptop took lesser time to load the CD than it had taken for it to boot. Mira was already getting nauseous with anxiety.
This CD was by far, her favorite piece of work. Designed to work on every system, it could retrieve the longest passwords within minutes.
Hmm…maybe she could try NASA's site next…
OK, enough dreaming, she had better get down to work. She scanned Aliya's computer to find what she was looking for. What that was exactly, even she had no idea. But she knew it was there.
Music...pictures...mail…
OFFICE! Yes, that could be it, that had to be it. Double clicking the folder, her doubts were removed when she was prompted for a password. She set her hacking masterpiece to work and watched as character after character was scanned in search for the correct one.
She checked her watch. 2 a.m. she thought of the morning when she would present the new program to her boss. How he would smile and say, I knew you would be the one to find the solution…

"Mira?"
Mira looked up, remembering where she was with a jolt. She was now staring into Aliya's face, tired and questioning.
"What are you doing here?" She asked as she strode up to her desk and joined Mira to face the screen. Mira saw her face redden, first with anger and then with sadness. Not trusting herself to say anything, Mira pulled her gaze away from her face and stared back at the screen. The last character was being hunted up.
MiraMia.
She thought back to the time her sister had trouble pronouncing her name. She felt a lump form in her throat as her dream burned away. She looked up at her sister just as she looked down at her. Something passed between them.
"Good night Mia".
She closed the door after she had left the room.

Sand

This was the third post I had started working on, way back when I started writing this blog.

I was stuck after "the last three days would have been for nothing." Because I didn't know where this was headed or what I wanted to do with it. I still don't, except that I feel like the runner is in a race against time. So I added another paragraph, and I still don't know where to take this. 

Even after almost eight months, this remains incomplete. Make what you will of it, I shall keep updating it when things begin to align.

****

Its hot and dusty. The sun is burning my back. My lips are parched, my throat feel scratchy. My face burns, it feels dirty. My legs ache and my back is raw. The sound of the crows in the sky has a scary edge to it. But I must not stop. I cannot stop. I have to get there before I can drink any water, wash my face or look at my burns. Everything will fall apart if I stop now. The last three days would have been for nothing. I am running out of time. It saddened me to think it would all be over, whether I succeed or fail. If I fail, it will be over for everyone, nothing will remain, but if I succeed I alone would perish, never to return again. The thought of it was making me ache with a longing I hadn't felt before. I wanted to turn around and settle down in the soft sand of the beach outside my house. To dig myself a grave in the sand and lie there while the breeze filled in the emptiness about me. But I knew I must go on, I could not turn back. I could not be the reason the world ceased to exist. With that thought in my mind, I continued on my solo journey across the dry land, towards the blue horizon.

By Myself

Oh Glory of Glories! It's summertime again. And I had to go meet a lady, two bloody hours away, at 1 pm. Right about the time when the Sun is at its highest. I considered blowing off the appointment (again), but then I figured, what has to be, has to be. Suck it up, brave the sun, and do it. 

I tried, rather unsuccessfully, to convince my dearest friends to accompany me on the journey. Traitors. None of them wanted to leave the comfort of an air conditioned room to help a friend in need...They shall pay. What if I had to go to Mordor to destroy a ring?

On the way to my "meeting", I was wondering, was I always this snooty? Isn't summer back home much worse? I have travelled and spent time outdoors in worse conditions. Heh, drawbacks of working in an air conditioned environment.

I have never been able to understand the autowallah. First, they fight the government to up the prices. They claim they can't ply with the metered rates, because the rates are too low. Then, when the government complies, they still refuse to use the meter. It's always, "Madam, one-way street" or "Madam, U-turn too far off" or "Madam, you look like you can bullied" or "Madam, you need my services more than I need your money. So shut up and pay." And then, after half an hour of haggling over an atrocious price, they finally agree to take you to your destination. Only, somehow, they ALWAYS drop you at least 1 km away from the agreed destination. "It's right here Madam, just cross the road, take a right, then a left, then go straight, and then the last left on your right". I don't get it. Why did I just pay this guy? To give me directions? For the amount they charge, they should ideally be lifting me up and dropping me inside!! Not growling at me and telling me to poo off. 

So, anyway, meeting done. There was no food involved, by the way. (Who invites you at 1 and doesn't give you food! I think this should be illegal in all the nations of the world.) I was now left to fend for myself. The food hunt is usually my favorite part about being out by myself. Some people find it horrifying that I would go to a restaurant and eat all alone. They feel I am suffering from some acute form of depression and that I am capable of jumping off the top of a roof this very instant. To them I say, chill. I am hungry. And alone at the moment. I could die of hunger, not of loneliness. I am beginning to realize that I make too much use of the comma in my sentences. They shall be avoided in the near future. Hope you don't mind. 

I began my hunt for the perfect lunching experience. I crossed a nice looking place called BFC. It looked so like the KFC, I was tempted to go in and give their Arabic food a shot. I decided against it and settled for a Bengali mess. As I walked in a little apprehensively, the man at the door looked at me and said, "Kya chahiye didi?" Aila! Hindi bola! All apprehensions left me, and I walked in and ordered a fish meal. I suppose the fish was what a Bengali would have for lunch on a daily basis. Nothing that drove me wild. But ohhhhh...the bhaja. Potatoes, brinjal and lady finger cooked in a wonderful paste of mustard. Heaven..I have a newly developed fondness for mustard. I often wonder why we don't use mustard as a spice in Punjabi cooking. It takes a meal to a whole new level. The pungency! (Do note, the Punjabis use the leaf of the mustard plant to make saag. A beauty in it's own right.)

Fully fed, it's time to return home. I walk to the main road and realize that I would need to cross the road in order to get to the bus stop.Except that this was a major road, with no traffic lights and heavy traffic. I thought I could do it. I waited for almost half an hour. I was beginning to contemplate hiring another auto to take a u-turn and drop me off to the other side. I wished my knight in shining armor would come to my rescue, He would hold my hand and say, Come my love, I shall take you across. And all the traffic would come to a standstill. And I would walk across with my head held high. Alas! I am not a Disney Princess. I think after the first twenty minutes, the people in the shop  behind me had begun to place bets on how much longer I'd be standing there. I kept wondering why I was the only one trying to get across to the other side. Did everyone happen to get down at the same side of the road they wanted to be on? And then it hit me. Subways. What a dastardly thing to not remember! Numb skull. Of course there has to be a subway. It's a bus stop in the middle of a very crowded road! I found myself chuckling at my idiocy.  I take the subway, get onto a bus, and return home, dying for a nice cold shower. 

After I am showered and watered, as I lay down to mend my dehydrated soul, I can't help but think, thank god we still have Sunday.

Until later,

Naina!

The Original Sin

Food...it means different things, to different people. To some, it's a means of staying alive; to others, a curse; and to most, a delight. Today, has been a wonderful gastronomic journey, of epic proportions! Does that even make sense? I don't know. I am way too excited to get started with my dinner RIGHT NOW.
What started off as a simple project, is turning out to be an amazing smelling pot of rice, complete with two layers of some realllly amazing looking/smelling/tasting chicken.
I have come to realize, that the actual process of cooking is more exciting to me than the eating itself. The smell of the juices, the color of the marinade, the texture of the gravy...bliss!
It all started with Krishna grinding garlic, red chilly and ginger in our iron grinding thingy (you know? the heavy iron thing with the rod, in which we grind spices? I am sure it has a name, Google it!). Have you ever smelt this particular smell? Do this as an experiment, peel some garlic, some ginger and green chilli. Put it all in a little bowl and grind it. And while it's being beaten to a pulp, breathe in. Intoxicating! I love the smell..it makes me drool! It makes me giggle like a little girl. This smell, reminds me of all that is good in life, like everything is perfect, as it should be. It makes me want to sleep with its memory forever etched in my (Olfactory?) mind. If there was a heaven, I bet this is what it would smell like. I think somebody should make a perfume with the smell of ginger garlic paste. I would follow anyone who wore this smell like a puppy in love. And I actually think I mean it.
The girls are usually very averse to the idea of adding ghee to their cooking. So when Krishna asked me to add 50 mL of ghee, with 100 mL of oil in a pot, I was delightfully surprised. For those of you who don't get the importance of that measurement, that's a lot of grease. That's almost a glass full of it!
Next up, we had to add all the nice smelling spices in the hot oil. Ho ho ho ho!! The smells!! I can't even begin to explain what went through me at that particular moment. You have to experience this, to really know what I am talking about. With every ingredient that was added to the pot, my excitement rose up by a notch. The frequency of my giggling was up by several. I couldn't wait to get started with our meal.
By the time the food was ready, I was quite worked up with all the smells seeping in into my room. I took three (very generous) helpings of the Biryani. It was everything I had imagined it to be. I give full credit to Krishna for providing me with 4 hours of uninterrupted foodie bliss. I hope we don't have too many of these experiences in our lives, I would hate to die of a heart attack at the age of 30.
I also hope I made you crave something delectable and completely unachievable. Good luck with raiding your food stores, I doubt you are going to find anything satisfactory to eat at this very moment. (evil laughter) Meanwhile, feel free to feed on these pictures!

Happy Hunger Pangs.
Naina T.

The Death of a Man

“The year I turned ninety, I wanted to give myself the gift of a night of wild love with an adolescent virgin.” Memoirs of My Melancholy Whores, Gabriel Garcia Marquez (1927-2014)

Today morning, as I was going through my morning ritual of checking out the news on Twitter, I read of the demise of 87 year old Marquez. It felt weird, lying in bed, with the sun streaming in through my parted curtains, to learn about the death of a man, so many loved. It almost felt like a scene from one of his books. The morning silence. The Sun. And death. 

The above quote, are perhaps the first words of his that I ever read. It made me wonder what kind of a man he was. I wish I could say I fell in love with his writing, that I bought every book ever written by him and gobbled them up, but I didn't. I never understood what I was reading. I put it down to age, to inexperience. Then, recently, I picked up One Hundred Years of Solitude and Love in the Time of Cholera, thinking, that maybe, Memoirs..wasn't his best book. I am sorry to say, I still didn't enjoy his work as much as other people did. It was only today, when I was going through his quotes, that it hit me. It wasn't about the what he wrote, it was always about the how. All three books that I have read, feature "love"  so prominently. It may be love of the flesh, love unrequited, love of power, the love of a region, love, love, love. His words show he had a deep understanding of living and loving. 
Here is a list of few quotes, that I personally liked, from his works. Feel free to share your personal favorites.

“...the invincible power that has moved the world is unrequited, not happy love” 

“There's no greater misfortune than dying alone.” 

“For a week I did not take off my mechanic's coverall day or night I did not bathe or shave or brush my teeth because love taught me too late that you groom yourself for someone you dress and perfume yourself for someone and I'd never had anyone to do that for.” 

“No matter what, nobody can take away the dances you've already had.” 

“Age isn't how old you are but how old you feel.” 

“To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else's heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her braid, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, but he did not dare approach her for fear of destroying the spell.” 

“He was still too young to know that the heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and that thanks to this artifice we manage to endure the burden of the past.”

“Tell him yes. Even if you are dying of fear, even if you are sorry later, because whatever you do, you will be sorry all the rest of your life if you say no.” 

“With her Florentino Ariza learned what he had already experienced many times without realizing it: that one can be in love with several people at the same time, feel the same sorrow with each, and not betray any of them. Alone in the midst of the crowd on the pier, he said to himself in a flash of anger: 'My heart has more rooms than a whorehouse.”

“But that afternoon he asked himself, with his infinite capacity for illusion, if such pitiless indifference might not be a subterfuge for hiding the torments of love.”

I guess the list could go on for lots and lots of pages. I shall end it here, and urge you to try out one of his books, if not more. You may not like it, you may not understand it, but you will find beauty in it.

Naina T.

Of Spoilers and SpoilerJerks

The following post contains NO SPOILERS at all. Please, read on with ease. I would never do that to a fellow believer.

The new episode of Game of Thrones crashed HBO Go service. It shouldn't come as a surprise, considering the huge following the series has garnered since its inception in 2011. So, you automatically assume everyone who follows the series would have seen the latest episode by the time you got done with it. Right?
Wrong. Very wrong. And here is why I feel like kicking this one particular guy's arse black and blue. He Put up a major spoiler as his STATUS MESSAGE on Facebook. Who DOES that? What kind of imbecile are you? Sadist. How would you like it if I read the entire series of books before the series has time to catch up and post it on your timeline? Let's see who has the last laugh then.
All of us has that one friend/sibling/teacher in our lives, who derives the greatest pleasure in sucking the joy out of the one thing that matters to us in life. The more excited you are about a particular book/movie/TV series, the more likely you are to end up feeling disappointed because of some nincompoop giving out spoilers for free.
I, personally, like to feel my emotions first hand when I am reading a book. I want to experience the shock, the surprise, the pain of losing a favorite character. I want to feel the kick in the gut when I find out the good guy was the bad guy all along. Just being able to feel those emotions, are what keeps us hooked to anything. And when somebody comes along and casually mentions the plot of a favorite book in a conversation, my world stops. I feel cheated. Like somebody gulped down the last piece of kebab (or paneer if you'd rather read vegetarian today) on my plate, that I was saving for the end. And it is in that moment that I know that I am, perhaps, capable of lashing out in a murderous rage, reaching out across the table to smack that person across the face with all my strength. And yelling obscenities in the middle of a crowded room. And humiliating the person till they melt into the ground and are never, ever able to read or watch anything without my permission again. But of course, I don't really do that. I don't want people to think I am loony. So instead, I just smile, and tell them to bugger off, and try to tell myself that my brain didn't really register the truth that was revealed (Does anybody else do that?). But of course, I know now.

I was thinking, what would be the perfect way to deal with SpoilerJerks? I have a few solutions for you. Try them out, and let me know if you got some satisfaction.

1. If it's an ongoing series based on a book, like our GoT here, gobble up the book till the end, before the series catch up. Call your SpoilerJerk and tell him all in one go. BooYeah!
2. Reveal to SpoilerJerk how Breaking Bad season 4 ends. And say goodbye to a friend forever.
3. Of course, if SpoilerJerk has already seen Breaking Bad, #2 will be useless. So instead, reveal to him how Dexter season 4 ends.
4. If #2 and #3 don't work, write your own kick ass thriller, with the most unbelievable ending. And JUST when SpoilerJerk picks it up to read, tell him how it ends. With a smile.
5. Bake SpoilerJerk a cake. Chocolate cake. ;). For those of you who don't follow, go watch/read The Help.
6. Plan a very elaborate surprise birthday party with SpoilerJerk for his/her better half. And just 1 day before...reveal the truth.Works well if SpoilerJerk is about to make a marriage proposal.
7. Gift a super fast murder mystery to SpoilerJerk. And somewhere in the middle of the book, just when the plot thickens, pen down the name of the murderer. Sit back and wait for SpoilerJerk's call.

If any of these tricks work for you, don't forget to come back and post it here. I will sit back and think up better revengeSpoilers, meanwhile.
Happy watching. Happy concealing. And Happy Revealing.

May the spoilers, ever, be in your favor.

Naina T.